


indeed a beautiful thing

by Fluffypanda, justanotherpipedream



Series: Tony Stark Bingo 2019 [6]
Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Marvel Tails
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Anthropomorphic, Bandits & Outlaws, Complete, M/M, Plot Twists, Pre-Slash, Swordfighting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-09-25 02:49:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20369434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fluffypanda/pseuds/Fluffypanda, https://archiveofourown.org/users/justanotherpipedream/pseuds/justanotherpipedream
Summary: Rebellion is brewing in Velmar and Captain Steven Mouser has been sent to the city of Iron Landing to investigate. He is to secure the cooperation of Lord Stark if he is ever to find the elusive leader of the rebellion, but there is more to both of them than meets the eye.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So we took our main inspiration from [Earth-8311 aka Marvel Tails aka that place Spider-ham is from](https://marvel.fandom.com/wiki/Earth-8311), but we were pretty loose with the canon, liberally mixing in a lot of details from the MCU and filtering it through a Redwall inspired fantasy AU. So, all you really need to know is that Steve's last name is Mouser, he's a cat and Tony is a mouse. Special thanks to our betas, Gabby and Aoife for helping us out!
> 
> We're using this to fill some Tony Stark Bingo Squares  
Chapter One: R1 - Resolve (Panda) +K3 - AU: Adventurers/Explorers (Summer)  
Thank you to Aoife and Gabby for beta-ing this fic for us!

Steve distractedly flicked a triangular ear at the fly buzzing around him and turned over a slightly wrinkled envelope affixed with the king’s seal in his hands. With a slight prick of his claws, he held it tight against the jostling of the cart as it traveled up the road.

He’d been proud to act as the Crown’s sword, yet now that very weapon, that symbol of authority granted to him as a Captain of the Royal Knights, weighed heavily at his side. Yet the greater weight still was the trust of his unit, left in the city below to secure their accommodations. Tail lashing, he slipped the envelope back into a pouch at his waist and desperately hoped he was making the right decision.

Steve’s nose twitched as his destination came into view. Stark Manor was nestled on the edge of a cliff high up on the wooded mountainside, overlooking Iron Landing. Up here, the smoke from the forges, the stench of molten iron, and the overlapping scents of thousands of animals living together was distant. 

A hazy mist rose up from a nearby waterfall, putting soft edges on the lines of carts trailed from the city’s many gates, carrying the goods to and from the heart of Velmar’s industry. All of the region's mined resources passed through the city before heading on to the rest of the kingdom and, as a result, attracted all sorts of workers and crafts animals to the city.

As they got closer to the manor, sounds of merry-making made themselves heard even over the roar of rushing water. Steve frowned. As far as he knew, it wasn’t any sort of feast day. It must be deafening inside if Steve could hear it all the way from out here. Steve thanked the donkey for letting him come along with the food delivery to the manor with a gold vel and hopped off the cart.

Before Steve could even knock, the door opened to uproarious laughter as a skunk stumbled out, giggling. Steve covered his nose and watched the skunk depart, eyes watering. The harsh smell lingered, burning out any remaining sense of smell in his abused nose.

“Good afternoon, sir. Might I inquire your business here?”

Steve jumped, fur standing on end. He hadn’t even noticed the badger in butler’s clothes standing just inside the door. “Yes, sorry. Good afternoon. Sir Steven Mouser, here to speak with the Lord of Iron Landing. It’s King’s business.”

The badger studied him with a neutral expression on his striped face before he finally said, “Very well. Follow me, if you will?”

He lead Steve inside the lavishly decorated manor before stopping at what must have been the entrance to the great hall. Just beyond Steve could see the high ceilings with exposed wooden beams and long tables crowded with well-to-do animals. It was only midday but these animals were deep in their cups. No wonder the rebels were running wild out here. The lord would probably be delighted to hear the matter was someone else’s problem now.

The badger motioned for Steve to wait beside a tapestry depicting a mouse brandishing a sword at a lion. Steve recognized it as a king long past from somewhere in Velmar’s history, though he’d be hard pressed to say which one.

“Sir Captain Steven Mouser of the Royal Knights,” the badger announced to the room.

Knowing that was his cue, Steve stepped into the hall. He immediately felt unbalanced when his feet sank into the ornate rugs that had been thrown over the slate floor. Despite his rise through the ranks, Steve had never gotten used to the wealth the nobility displayed.

The lord, a rather handsome mouse with rich brown fur was dressed in decadent silks, Steve noted with distaste. With the grace and command of someone born and bred into high society, the mouse beckoned him forward and raised his glass for a serving animal to refill. The badger left Steve to join him by his side.

“What’s a member of the Royal Knights doing here? Not that a visit from one so dashing is a hardship.”

“From his majesty,” Steve said, holding up the envelope. The writ contained within was meant to ensure Lord Stark’s cooperation. “My unit and I have been sent to investigate reports of a rebellion fomenting in your lands.”

Riots were breaking out in small pockets all around the lands. The people spoke of a black knight hiding in the mountains, a bringer of justice to some, a thief and a vigilante to others.  The King had been very clear in his orders; Steve had been ordered to put down the rebellion discreetly, without causing a massive panic.

Stark’s eyes flickered disinterestedly to the envelope and gestured for the badger at his side to take it. “What did you do to deserve that?”

The badger opened the letter and scanned it’s contents before handing it to Stark while whispering something in his ear.

“What do you mean?”

Stark frowned at the letter and said, “Your so-called rebellion is a handful of peasants armed with pickaxes and hoes. They’re troublesome mind you, but hardly worth royal attention.”

“You underestimate them. Surely you’ve received the reports of stolen iron shipments?”

Stark made a vague gesture. “I don’t waste my time fussing over every little thing that goes on in my domain.”

Steve wrinkled his nose but did his best to keep the look of disgust off his face. It was clear that Stark thought it was none of his concern.

Looking around him though, at the boisterous laughter, the sheer amount of food and the loud music drowning everything out, Steve honestly couldn’t say that he would expect Lord Stark to notice anything but the lavish parties thrown here week after week.

At that moment, a slender grey bunny walked over to them. Steve recognized him in passing as the royal botanist. It was something of a shock to see him attending a party so far from the palace. From what Steve had heard, Doctor Banner tended to prefer the company of his plants.

Doctor Banner cleared his throat. “I’m sorry to interrupt, Lord Stark, but the kitchens asked if I could hop up here and pass a message on. Something about the wheel of cheese being too large to roll into the great hall?”

Stark scowled. “What a disaster. Ah, Lady Potts, over here if you please!” A noble pig in a fine dress emerged from the crowd. “Lovely. Please answer some of the Captain’s questions then show him to the door. I’ve got to go save the camembert-”

“Lord Stark,” interrupted Steve, “I assure you that your  _ cheese _ can wait. There are rumors of a criminal, the one in charge of the rebellion, hiding out in your lands. I am requesting the aid of your guards and shipping manifests from--”

“Of course, the writ made it quite clear that I was to do my utmost to assist you, but as I’ve said, I leave the administrative work to those better suited for it. Frankly, I haven’t a clue who you should speak to about all that. On the other hand, Lady Potts will know where to direct you.”

Stark waved him off. “I wish you the best of luck finding your rebels, Captain. Enjoy the party. Lady Potts can answer any further questions. Good day.”

Steve reached out to grab his arm instinctively as Stark tried to brush by, “Lord Stark! This is your land. You have a responsibility to your people, you ought to know about it.”

The room was silent. Whispers filled the air as everyone’s eyes locked onto them. Stark’s eyes flashed dangerously as he stepped forward. Steve could feel the hairs stand up on the back of his tail. “And what makes you think that nothing is being done? I am being cooperative, and yet you are doing splendidly in testing my patience, Captain. If you are going to barge in here, with no respect for any of my people or my guests here, I am going to have to ask you to leave.  _ Now _ .”

Steve’s ears twitched, his eyes glancing around the room. As much as he wanted to barge out of there screaming, he knew that as much as it pained him, he knew that if he wanted to get anywhere in his investigation, he would need to stay on the good side of the Starks.

“I apologize,” said Steve through clenched teeth.

As the whispers broke out around them, Steve could swear that there was a flash of amusement in Stark’s eyes.

Before he could say anything though, Lady Potts stepped forward gracefully as she motioned to the door. “I shall do my best to help you Captain. We can speak over in the parlor.”

Steve nodded, following her out into the side hall.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter fills Panda's square, A4 - AU:Fantasy World for the 2019 Tony Stark Bingo. Enjoy!

Steve frowned as he neared the fork in the road. A hush had been cast over the scene thanks to a thick carpet of pine needles on either side of the well maintained road, leaving only the faint sound of rushing water. The mountains loomed overhead, almost obscuring the sky.

The guards had done a good job at keeping the area clear for now, turning animals back some distance in either direction, but it was clear that the result of the attack needed to be cleared sooner than later. No caravan would be able to pass in the midst of this mess.

For all that Steve had walked away from his conversation with Lady Potts feeling as if he’d been armed with all the information he could need to carry out his investigation, he’d been stymied every step since. He’d been sent to the city guards, and then to the caravan leaders, and then to the guildmasters; each one gracious, but certain he’d find his answers with the next in the chain. It hadn’t been until he’d come back around to speak with the guards again that he heard about the most recent robbery.

Broken pieces of wood were scattered all down the road, scorch marks painting them black. All the crates of royal supplies were long gone, carried off into the night. Several members of Steve’s unit were busy interviewing the animals that discovered the wreck.

This was no ordinary attack. All but the most foolish of bandits knew to stay away from the royal caravans; the chances of surviving stealing from the Crown were slim. Whoever had planned this attack knew what to expect.

Steve approached the group of guards on duty. The captain greeted him with a nod. “Good day, Captain Mouser.”

“Captain Rhodes,” said Steve, a little surprised to see a well-respected Captain of the Royal Guard like James ‘Warthog’ Rhodes here. Their duties meant that they did not cross paths often, but Rhodes would no doubt provide valuable insight. “What have you gathered so far?”

“According to the guards, they used the early morning fog to their advantage,” said Rhodes. “Thanks to the element of surprise and their sheer numbers, they were able to overwhelm the caravan guards.”

Rhodes nodded towards the broken wood scattered behind them. “They hijacked the wagons, but not without doing a little damage.”

Steve hissed, before closing his eyes to compose himself. He took a deep breath. “Any leads so far?”

“Not much to go on, if I’m honest.” Rhodes eyed the cobblestone roads. “The fog obscured most of everything, and they must’ve travelled down the main road so it’s hard to really figure out where they went other than south.”

Steve closed his eyes. “Of course there wasn’t. There never is. What a nightmare.”

This group was not without organization or order; it was clear that they picked their targets wisely and chose opportune moments to strike. Their ability to vanish into the night without a trace was more than a little frustrating. If Steve didn’t know any better, he would’ve guessed that the vigilantes were nothing more than a good ghost story.

“And yet here you are, chasing down a nightmare.”

Steve jumped at the voice from behind him, tail bristling. Lord Stark watched him in amusement as he tilted his head to the side. Steve blinked in surprise. “Lord Stark. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

Stark twitched his whiskers with a distinct air of offense before replying, “Well, a certain someone said that I should take more of an interest in what goes on in my lands. So here I am. What do you have for me, Sir Rhodes?”

Whatever game Stark was playing, Steve wasn’t buying this change of heart. Steve watched Lord Stark’s face carefully, but he merely flashed Steve a rather disconcerting smile and listened a little too intently to Captain Rhodes’ report.

He turned back to Steve. “Well, then, my fair Captain. What’s our first move?”

“‘Our?’” Steve gaped, his ears flicking as he tried to find some sort of excuse, any excuse, to turn down the Lord who would no doubt only get in his way.

“Of course _ our,_” replied Lord Stark with his nose raised in the air. He clasped his arms behind him, his eyes lingering as they scanned Steve up and down licentiously. “You wanted me. and now you’ll have me, Captain. Who am I to deny so handsome a knight?”

Steve’s tail twitched behind him slightly as he fought off the urge to give his fur a self-conscious lick. Surely Lord Stark wasn’t implying what Steve thought he was implying. “I-”

Lord Stark winked at him. “Daylight’s wasting. Shall we?”

And without another word, Lord Stark turned around and started marching straight towards the woods, leaving Steve scrambling to catch up. The mouse was much faster than Steve anticipated he would be, sniffing the air as he darted in between the fallen logs and past the trees.

“As much as I appreciate your aid, Lord Stark- where are you going exactly?”

“Two noses are better than one as they say,” said Lord Stark dashingly. “And as I said earlier, it’s not an imposition, I’m offering my services. Now, onwards Captain!”

And without another word, Lord Stark took off deeper into the woods.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> S5 - Protection (Panda) + S1 - Misunderstandings (Summer) for the 2019 Tony Stark Bingo.

Lord Stark was much more nimble and comfortable in the woods than Steve honestly expected, skittering over rocks and under branches with practiced ease. He didn’t even complain about the mud stains no doubt seeping into his expensive clothing.

“What are you tracking?”

Lord Stark tapped his nose. “Captain Rhodes mentioned that they carried the supplies away, did they not? There might not have been any footsteps or tracks to trace, but the smell of freshly smelt iron is not easily erasable.”

The rushing roar of the river became louder and louder as they neared the edge of the riverbank. Lord Stark stopped with a frown. “Unfortunately, it seems like the scent trail ends here. They’ve must have crossed.”

Before Steve could respond, a flash at the corner of his eye had Steve tackling Lord Stark to the ground. The crossbow bolt whizzed by above them, embedding itself into the tree behind them with a loud thunk. Steve whipped his head around, looking for cover.

“This way,” hissed Steve, tugging Lord Stark forward as they crawled towards a large fallen log partially sticking out over the water.

Lord Stark cursed as he clutched at his arm. “Bandits?”

“It seems so,” Steve said grimly as he leaned forward to check Lord Stark’s arm, who waved him off.

“It was just a graze. How many are we dealing with?”

Steve pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket, wrapping and tying it neatly around Stark’s arm. After nodding, Steve listened carefully, his ears swiveling as he tried to pinpoint how many creatures were surrounding them. “From the sounds of it, at least five. Can you fight?”

Lord Stark frowned but nodded, and Steve watched as the lord pulled the short sword from his side. “I’m no use at long range, but I can stab anyone that gets too close.”

Steve hoped that someone actually showed Stark how to use that thing. He carefully drew his own sword, keeping it low to the ground as he stayed alert for any sign of the enemy. One was big, lumbering through the forest with little care for stealth, but the others were harder to separate out from the rushing water.

For a moment all Steve could hear was the whisper of the wind in the trees. His eyes tracked the descent of falling pine needles.

He sprung up, pushing Stark behind him as he raised his sword to meet the weasel that slid out from between the trees. The weasel darted around him, weaving under Steve’s guard in a matter of seconds to slash him with one of his daggers. Steve just barely parried the blow and the others that came after it, watching and waiting for an opening.

“Drop your sword and we’ll go easy on you.”

“Not today!” Steve shouted, thrusting his sword forward.

A porcupine armed with a short sword joined the fray, quills bristling as she ran to the weasel's aid. The weasel dropped his guard for a second, but it was all that Steve needed.

He flashed forward to knock the dagger from the weasel’s hand with his sword and followed up with a brutal kick. The weasel flew backwards, his head slamming against the tree behind him with a heavy thunk before slumping to the ground.

Before he could catch his breath, Steve leaped to the side, rolling out of the way just as a sword sliced through the air where he once stood. The porcupine grunted, quills bristling as she lifted her sword to swing at Steve once more.

“Who said they’d be easy pickings?” she grumbled, when Steve dodged her attack once again.

Steve skirted around the space between him and the porcupine, trying to gauge her defenses. He tested her with a quick half step forward then darted back before she swung around to pin him with her quills. Just then, a blur on the edge of Steve’s vision leaped over the log where Stark was still taking shelter.

The woods rang with the sound of steel meeting steel as Stark took on a second weasel. Steve turned, ready to jump in, and nearly lost his whiskers. Steve reeled back and, gritting his teeth, refocused his attention on the porcupine.

“I don’t think so,” she said. “You’re fighting me.”

Charging forward, he forced her back with a wide swing of his sword and ducked under the blow meant for him. Before he could finish closing the gap between them, he was met with a wall of quills. He was right back where he started, unable to push forward or retreat.

“I hope your friend is carrying some good fucking loot. If I’m going through all this for a handful of coins and some shitty jewelry--”

A low roar rattled through Steve and a large black bear almost twice his size charged at him from the group of trees on the right. The bear raised his club high, swinging it at Steve’s head with deadly force.

The club flew past Steve’s nose as he ducked out of the way, ruffling his fur in its wake. The trees shook with the club’s impact, chips of bark spraying out.

“I had it handled,” the porcupine grumbled.

“Well now we can handle it faster,” the bear gruffly replied. 

The next blow knocked the sword from Steve’s paw. Steve took several halting steps backward and came up against the porcupine again.

“Where do you think you’re going?” she said.

Steve’s head whipped one way, then another, looking for a way out as they began to close in on him. Finally, Steve darted under the bear’s arms and used one foot to spring off a tree, landing on the bear’s back. Steve dug his claws in and held on. Tossing the club aside with a snarl, the bear reached for Steve instead, paws narrowly missing him.

“Get off me!” The bear yelled, starting to flail once he realized that Steve was out of his reach. “Get off me! Get off me! Get the fuck off me!”

With the last yell, the bear slammed up against a tree. Steve scrambled to stay on, repeatedly kicking long scores down the bear’s back. The porcupine trailed behind Steve and the bear uselessly as they crashed through the woods.

“Watch out!” The porcupine said.

Steve leaped off the bear, barely missing a low hanging branch as he landed. Behind him, the bear ran square into it with an audible crack, toppling over as he landed atop the porcupine.

Sore and exhausted, Steve clambered to his feet and ran to find Stark. He couldn’t be too late, he couldn’t-

Gasping for breath, Steve rounded the tree to find Stark standing over the weasel that attacked him.

“You won,” Steve said, not sure if he was surprised or relieved.

“It’s not as impressive as fighting off three of them with one paw tied behind my back.”

Steve looked around at the felled bandits. Something didn’t add up. “I didn’t-”

Alarmed, Steve stopped in his tracks. Where was the first weasel that he took down? He should have been beside that tree.

Steve followed the traces of a body being dragged away from that spot to the river. On the other side a coyote scrambled up the banks with the weasel slung over their shoulder. Steve rushed back to where he felled the bear and porcupine.

Suddenly, Stark pulled him back. “None of them had a crossbow. There’s still one more-”

A crossbow bolt whistled through the air and pain erupted in Steve’s back. He desperately looked around for the shooter. A flash of blue high in the treetops drew Steve’s attention. A blue jay, partially hidden in the trees some distance away, was in the process of loading another bolt into their crossbow with their beak.

Steve dodged out of the bolt’s path and it sunk deep into a tree. Trying not to lose sight of them through the canopy, Steve charged at the blue jay with Stark right on his tail.

“Shit,” the blue jay cried, taking to the air in a flurry of wings.

“Well at least we have this one to interrogate at the very least.” Steve nodded at the weasel Stark had defeated, still lying unconscious on the forest floor. He frowned and glanced around once more. “If there are still more out there, I’ll send for more guards to watch these woods-”

“Here,” interrupted Stark. He was ripping up pieces of his torn jacket with his teeth. “You should probably bind this one before he wakes and gives us more trouble. You’re going to have to carry him back yourself, unfortunately. I don’t think I’ll be much help to you. How’s the back?”

Steve startled but nodded. He stepped forward and with Stark’s help, began to secure the unconscious bandit. “I’m fine, the armor stopped it from hitting anything major. I’m sure it will leave an unpleasant bruise though.”

“My, you are strong,” Stark said, watching Steve lift the weasel up. “I’ve always had a weakness for that sort of thing.”

Steve exhaled deeply, re-adjusting his grip on the unconscious weasel now tossed over his shoulder. Inexplicably, his heart was pounding. “Do you really need to do that?”

“Only stating the truth, Captain.” Stark started walking back the way they came into the trees. Steve scrambled to keep up, his eyes peeled as they continued back out of the woods.

By the time they made it back to the road, the weasel had started to come to. He had a glazed look in his eyes when Steve handed him to the guards.

“Why did you attack us?” Steve asked, once the bandit had fully woken.

The weasel shrugged defensively. "Give me a break, an animal ha s got to eat."

Steve bristled. "Most animals don't try to feed themselves by putting a bolt through someone."

Times were tough for many animals. If it weren’t enough that many of Velmar’s domains fell into squalor under their lord’s mismanagement and heavy taxes were being levied on animals who saw little in return, dry summers meant the harvest had failed the past few years. Now, thanks to the number of animals turning to robbery, the common folk feared for their lives.

Was this how the rebellion supported itself? Taking not only from the crown, but any animal unlucky enough to cross their path?

"You guys are rich, you wouldn't understand," the weasel spat. 

Steve understood quite well. There was a desperation in hunger, in having nothing, but still being squeezed dry. He asked,  “Is that why you joined the rebellion?”

“Joined the rebellion? Do I look like I want to get killed?  The rebels are idiots for going up against the king. They’re as good as dead.”

"You might be right about that, the good Captain here is supposed to get the job done."

Steve allowed the guards to take the bandit away in chains. All the while, Stark continued to chatter on.

“That was some brilliant fighting out there I have to say, Captain. You saved my life, multiple times nonetheless! I’d say that deserves a feast wouldn’t you say?”

“I-”

“-a nice big one with all the fish you can eat. I even know where I can get my hands on a nice catnip infused vintage--”

“Lord Stark while I appreciate the thought, I really don’t need a feast-”

“Of course you do! Why, look at how hard you and your knights have been working! If anyone deserves a feast, it’s all the overworked members of your unit. I insist!”

Steve would’ve liked to outright refuse, but he could not turn down the hospitality of a lord lightly. He also felt a twinge of guilt thinking of his unit. They worked tirelessly on the investigation and would no doubt be grateful for the break. 

“I suppose, it wouldn’t hurt...”

Stark clapped his paws together with a grin. “Wonderful! I have so many ideas already. Your knights will have such a grand time! Not only will there be a scrumptious collection of cheeses, but we’ll have to bring in some fruit, nuts and the best cream of course- oh I’ll have to get Pepper to send out invitations…”

Steve waved to his men to let them know he'd meet them back at the inn, before following behind the mouse, already wandering down the road ahead. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter fills squares K2 - Victorious (Panda) and S3 - Steve/Tony (Summer) for the 2019 Tony Stark Bingo - enjoy!

“You should probably at least pretend to smile, Mister Guest-of-Honour.”

Steve held back a sigh, plastering on what he hoped was a pleasant smile. Clint nudged him with his wing. “Better, but maybe try to act like you’re not going to eat half the guests here. There you go. I know you’d rather be getting your feet dirty searching for more clues instead of enjoying yourself-”

Steve glared, but Clint wasn’t known as ‘Squakeye’ for nothing. The rooster continued on, unfazed, “-but Lord Stark really knows how to throw a good party. Even _ you _ have to admit that we needed this.”

Steve hated to admit it, but he hadn’t realized how tightly wound his knights were until this moment. Everyone was laughing and cheering, enjoying the feast of food and drink. He even spotted Natasha flashing a smile as the group of minstrels sang and serenaded the group.

“I hope that you’re enjoying the food gentlemen. Lord Stark made sure to ask around and stock all your favourite foods, Captain,” interjected Lady Pepper, standing across from them with a smile.

Steve felt a twinge of guilt as he eyed the generous spread of delicately steamed fish. He turned back to Lady Pepper with a smile. “It’s delicious. You and Lord Stark have my thanks.”

Lady Pepper smiled and curtseyed. “Please let me know if there’s any other requests for food or drink for the evening. Lord Stark was clear in his instructions in rewarding you most generously for your kindness and bravery.”

“I- thank you. Of course.”

Lady Pepper curtseyed before she wandered back to her seat next to the head of the table. Next to her, Lord Stark was beaming at him from the other end of the table, waving his goblet wildly at him. “A toast to Captain Mouser! Without whom I would most surely be dead!”

A loud chorus of voices echoed the toast and everyone raised their goblets into the air in triumph. Steve raised his goblet in return, sipping on his catnip infused wine. Almost immediately, an intoxicating warmth spread throughout his body. He set the goblet aside.

“Can’t you loosen up for once, Cap?” asked Clint with a burp.

“Catnip might be taking it a little too far,” answered Steve. “I like keeping my instincts and mind intact.”

“Smart cat,” said Clint as he took another large swig. “Probably should’ve sent that missive to them earlier.”

A group of knights roared with laughter as they raised their goblets to the air, wine spilling everywhere. Steve wrinkled his nose with a frown.

“I think I’m going to get some air,” he told Clint, shaking his head.

Steve didn’t get far before a voice stopped him. “You aren’t leaving because you aren’t having fun, I hope, Captain?”

Steve straightened, bowing slightly as Lord Stark approached him with an easy smile. The wine’s heady warmth took residence in his belly and he allowed Stark to escort him over to a sheltered corner of the hall. The catnip must have been stronger than he thought.

“No, it’s enjoyable so far, Lord Stark, thank you. With all the hard work of my knights, I know that they appreciate the chance to relax and indulge in your generosity”

Lord Stark’s whiskers twitched in interest. “I’m glad they are enjoying the feast. But what about you, Captain?”

Steve blinked for a moment, pondering the question. “To be honest, I find myself a bit out of place at such gatherings. I prefer something a little more-- intimate.”

Steve’s mouth snapped shut, his eyes widening in horror at his slip of tongue, but Lord Stark laughed and Steve felt himself relaxing. Lord Stark’s laugh was bright and his entire face lit up.

“I can assure you, I have no qualms arranging such a thing.” Lord Stark grinned. “I must admit, my motives for joining your investigation weren’t entirely pure. I’d been hoping to get to know you better.”

“Somehow that doesn’t come as a surprise, sir. You aren’t exactly subtle.”

“It’s one of my many flaws-- or so I’ve been told.” Lord Stark said, “Were you always destined to become a knight?”

“Believe it or not, no. I grew up much too frail and poor to ever expect anything like that. Of course, I dreamed of it-- I had always admired them, and how they always protected the people. Everyone looked up to them, respected them --but if it hadn’t been for my mentor, well, I’d have never gotten my chance.”

“They were important to you.”

Steve smiled. Fury was always gruff with him, but no matter how many times Steve got frustrated or annoyed, he would always yell at him to get back up.”I would’ve never gotten as far as I had without him. I owe him my life.”

A warm paw settled itself on top of Steve’s, patting it warmly. “I’m sure they would’ve been proud of how far you’ve come. They saw something in you that’s rare in this world, Captain.” 

Lord Stark waved his goblet around the room. “In all my years of meeting people and getting to know them, very few people will do what is right. Many people will do what is right for them, but very rarely will anyone do something simply because it is the right thing to do. It is a hard path to take, this path you walk Captain, but I admire you for it. Don’t lose that.”

It was almost like the weight had settled down onto Lord Stark’s shoulders, and Steve could see a rawness reflected in his eyes that he had never seen before. And then Lord Stark smiled, and in a flash, it was gone. “My apologizes Captain. Drinking does make me feel maudlin.”

“Lord Stark-”

“Tony. After everything that has happened earlier, I do believe that you may call me by my given name.”

“Lord Stark, I couldn’t possibly-”

All of a sudden, a loud shriek filled the air.

One of the servants serving his knights in the corner glared as she struggled to remove herself from the hold of one of Steve’s knights. Jackrabbit Rollins and the rest of the men around him burst into laughter as she batted ineffectually at their grasping hands.

Steve jumped to his feet with a snarl. Before he could act however, a flash of red and gold had already moved past him.

Steve watched as he snatched a goblet of wine before he stumbled his way close by. With a yelp, Lord Stark tripped over his feet, spilling wine all over Rollins with a cry. “Oh my, how clumsy of me. I apologize, Sir Rollins. Let me get you some new clothes. Jarvis, would you please escort Sir Rollins over here out of the hall and get him some new clothes? Thank you.”

In an instant, the badger was at his side, firmly tugging Rollins up and out into the hallway. “Right this way please-”

With a swirl, Lord Stark had also whisked away the servant with a dazzling smile. Seconds later, the feast continued on, conversations buzzing in excitement.

“Tell Rollins I expect him back at the inn before evening bells,” Steve said with great restraint to the gathered knights. “As for the rest of you, report to me first thing in the morning. I think we need to have a discussion about behavior befitting a Royal Knight.”

Steve glanced over to where Lord Stark disappeared. Maybe there was more to him than Steve originally thought. To his surprise, he felt a curl of disappointment that his conversation with Tony ended so soon. 

Steve let himself imagine, just for a moment, slipping away to find Tony. Maybe Tony would smile when he saw Steve, like he had tonight, and then-- what? What could really happen between them? It would never work between them-- a cat and a mouse, a royal knight and a noble-- the gulf between them was just too wide.

Any appetite for this sort of gathering Steve had was lost. He had been here long enough that it wouldn’t be seen as too rude to slip out.

The halls stank of skunk and sure enough, there was a black and white tail disappearing up the stairs and into the study. Steve wondered if he was a frequent guest.

A bit of conversation floated down from the open door while Steve snuck past the foot of the stairs.

“--with the next shipment,” someone said.

Lady Potts replied, “Tell them only the black--”

Was Lady Potts holding a meeting? Come to think of it, Steve hadn’t seen her in the Great Hall after the toast. Steve continued on.

He didn’t relax until he made it out into the main entrance. The door opened and Steve jumped back in surprise. Sir Rhodes closed the door behind him, his tail swishing behind him. “You alright, Mouser? You’re heading out early.”

“I’m alright-”

“Wonderful,” replied Rhodes with a nod, “that means we can have a drink before you go then. Come on, I’m sure they’ve opened the good stuff by now-”

“But-”

“Come on, Mouser. This is likely the only night in a long time that we will have the night off together. Let’s enjoy it while we can.”

With a whirl, Rhodes maneuvered Steve around and they were walking back towards the grand hall. Steve tried not to sigh as he glanced back at the door longingly.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Five: A2 - Identity Porn (Summer) + S3 - On opposing sides (Panda)

Back at the inn, the tables were covered in marked-up maps and sheaves of papers-- every scrap of information on the rebels that Steve and his unit collected up to this point. Over the next few days, Steve worked on bringing some semblance of order to the chaos while his knights trooped in and out, adding to the collection.

Steve paused reading through the reports on the caravans attacked. Something about this was making his whiskers twitch; maybe Steve was seeing patterns where there were none, but Steve knew there was  _ something _ more going on here.

He compared a few more reports and slowly a story came together. He just needed to confirm it.

Steve tucked the reports into his shirt and stood up. “I’m heading out.”

The market in Iron Landing was a dense tapestry of smells, sounds, and sights. Of course, the smoky, metallic tang of the city’s many foundries dominated the scentscape, but the hundreds of stalls in the plaza were a riot of scents unto themselves.

Freshly baked bread tempted over towards the bakers’ stalls. Shrieking children begged and pleaded with their parents for a chance to taste the tempting cinnamon scones. All the while, merchants proclaimed their wares as shoppers bustled by, trying to bargain for the best deals.

And while Steve’ armor usually caught the eyes and whispers of the locals, at this time of day, everyone was too busy to take much notice of him other than to give him a quick glance before hurrying off. The heat emanating from the foundries, along with the increasing heat from the rising sun, was making Steve really start to sweat.

He made a few attempts at speaking to the locals; most ended in frustration as they made their excuses and shuffled away, but a few conversations turned up some interesting information after he changed tacks. It seemed everyone, from the old hen running the bakery to the young buck shining shoes, loved nothing more than to gossip about their lord.

Eventually, Steve found his way to where the caravans were stationed and spent some time watching animals loading and unloading goods. It was around dinnertime when Clint waved him over.

“Did you really think that wearing  _ that _ here would get you anywhere?” asked Clint as he munched on an apple.

Steve blinked and stared down at his uniform with a frown. “What’s wrong with it?”

Clint rolled his eyes, ruffling his feathers with a huff. “The rebels are well-liked in these parts. Even if they did have any information, they’d be unlikely to give you anything useful. If you really want to find out something you can use, ditch the uniform and buy a round of drinks tonight at the local tavern.”

“I think I’ll leave that to you. You’ve got a keen eye for what wheels need greasing,” Steve said, leaning against the wall overlooking half the city. “Besides, you’d be surprised what I do manage to pick up, even in uniform. Stark’s inspired quite a bit of loyalty among the working animals. Did you know he regularly meets with the head of the miner’s union?”

“There’s a miner’s union?”

Steve nodded. Most lords outlawed unions in their lands, though the guilds were typically allowed free reign as long as a chunk of their profits made its way into their lord’s pocket. If animals could just band together to demand a fair wage and better working conditions, they might get ideas.

“Have you noticed anything?” Steve asked.

“Just the usual-- there’s a little gang of pickpockets scampering about. Their hideout is over by the canal, a broken down boathouse.”

Steve’s whiskers twitched as he tried not to laugh. Clint no doubt wanted to take them under his wing. “Are you doing to drop in on them?”

“I might. I could teach them a thing or two.”

“Remember what we’re here for.”

“Unraveling conspiracies against the crown, keeping things on the up-and-up, and not drinking before noon?”

“We’ve sworn an oath to uphold justice in this land-”

“I haven’t forgotten,” said Clint. Steve had never seen him this serious in a long time. Clint nodded. “I'll follow your lead. I wouldn’t be where I am today if it weren’t for you. We’ll find those rebels.”

Steve placed a paw on Clint’s shoulder. “I know I can count on you.”

Clint nods before he tugged his cloak a little bit tighter around him, holding his claw out with a grin. “If I’m gonna get anything useful, I’m gonna need some coin to loosen some tongues.”

Steve rolled his eyes but dug around in his pockets for some spare change. “Here. Don’t drain it all at once-”

“Got it boss.” With a shake of his tail feathers, Clint flitted off towards the lively tavern.

As he watched Clint leave, Steve shook his head. Despite how he acted, Clint was the best of them. Steve glanced down the street, his sights set on the winding path to the top of the cliffs of Stark Manor. But there were some places that Steve couldn’t ask Clint to follow. 

+=====

Stark Manor was a breathtaking sight amid the clouds of mist that were ablaze with the setting sun’s light. The column of smoke rising from the manor’s chimneys heightened the illusion. Steve shook off his sudden unease and headed in.

“Lord Stark will be along shortly,” Jarvis said, leading Steve inside to the parlor.

Steve thanked Jarvis and settled in to wait in the richly appointed room, heart twisting. What he suspected, if true, meant Tony lied to him and despite himself, he had begun to like the mouse. He was torn between praying he was right and wishing he was wrong.

“Do you always drop in on nobility like this, or should I feel special?” Tony said as he closed the door behind him.

The warm smile that graced his face made Steve feel even worse for suspecting him.

“It’s rather late, but I’m actually here to apologize.”

Tony flicked his tail. “Apologize? I can’t imagine for what.”

“For the other night. What my men did was inexcusable. Please extend my apologies to the young woman and let her know the perpetrator has been expelled from the knights and everyone else involved is on probation. My apologies to you as well, for their behavior.“

“I’m certain she will be pleased to hear that.” Tony ran his paw across the piano. “How goes your investigation? Did you find your rebels?”

“Not yet, but I have every confidence in my team,” Steve said, listening for footsteps in the hallway. “I hope it will be a relief, since so many of your shipments in particular were stolen.”

“Lady Potts, at least, will be glad. I imagine it makes bookkeeping a hassle.”

Right on cue came a knock on the parlor door. Tony answered it, with an apologetic glance at Steve. A servant was there, he whispered something in Tony’s ear.

“It appears I’m needed elsewhere.”

Steve felt an internal sigh of relief, his plan worked. “Then it would be a shame to keep you. I can find my own way out.”

“Nonsense, Happy here can escort you,” Tony said, nodding over to the servant before heading off.

Steve looked at Happy sizing him up. The dog narrowed his eyes right back at Steve before slowly saying, “It’s right this way, sir.”

As soon as his back was turned, Steve knocked him unconscious, hog-tied his feet and hands together with his jacket, and left him behind the settee.

Now, to find his way to the study.

Carefully prying the door open a small crack, Steve’s ears twitched as he listened intently. Quietly sneaking out, Steve slinked down the hallway and quickly up the stairs before anyone else could stop him.

Steve ducked inside the study, heart twisting painfully. He wanted to go back, ask Tony what it all meant face to face. How much of it had been a lie? What was he really hiding?

Steve had to know the truth, whatever it may be.

He bent over the dainty desk that dominated one side of the room and began shifting through papers. However deeply involved Stark was with the rebels, if he even knew about them at all, the evidence would be here. 

There was sheet after sheet of proposals and agreements, of invoices and requests and Steve examined every one of them for anything suspicious. 

At first glance, there didn’t appear to be anything strange. The ledgers all seemed to neatly inscribe movement of all the Stark’s inventory and assets, much like the copies they received. Strangely however, the neat handwriting seemed to also note which shipments to the capital were lost, including ones that had yet to set out, almost like the attacks were planned in advance--

Steve jumped at the sound of voices wandering closer from down the hallway. Glancing quickly left and right, he scurried underneath the desk, folding his tail as best he could before using the chair to hide himself as much as possible. 

He held his breath as the door clicked open, not daring to move. Maybe if he just stayed still, then he wouldn’t be noticed-

No, no, no- Steve could just make out the feet of another servant carefully making his way directly towards him. His heart pounded wildly as he tried to come up with an explanation.

His mind whirled. Steve was no wordsmith and there was no way that there would be any feasible explanation for his hiding under Stark’s desk. His hand twitched towards his belt. If he had to, he could hopefully knock the servant unconscious, that could buy him some time to grab some papers and run-

A clink echoed above him and Steve forced himself not to jump. The sound of a metal spoon being stirred was never so loud. It clacked against the side of what Steve would guess to be a teacup. With a satisfied hum, the servant turned around and shut the door behind them.

Steve sagged in relief. He pushed out the chair in front of him, before slowly crawling out with a grimace. The desk was clearly built for Lord Stark and for a cat, Steve was honestly surprised at how lucky he was that the servant hadn’t looked down.

Standing up, he hissed as his head caught the bottom edge of the drawer, hitting a sharp edge. As he glanced up, he inhaled sharply. A small lever was outlined underneath where Steve had hit his head. Scrambling the rest of the way out, he reached underneath and pulled on it. A series of small clicks had him scanning the room until the far bookcase unfurled itself from the wall.

Pushing it against the wall, Steve was surprised to see that there was only a stone wall behind it. Glancing down however, a small and barely visible latch poked out of the wall. Tugging on it, Steve pulled the latch up to reveal a small crawl space that led into the deep into the earth.

Steve stared into the darkness, uncertain he wanted to see what lay at the other end. Whatever was, it would be the truth he was seeking.

Crawling on his knees, Steve moved through with a grimace. It was dim even to his eyes, with the unknown light source much further down. Thankfully, Steve didn’t have to crawl for too long before the room opened up into a narrow cavern.

This cavern was small but brightly lit, a torch burning brightly in the corner. Stalactites hung from the ceiling, droplets of water dripping off. On the other side of the cavern, another dark hallway winded downwards. Snatching the torch off the wall, Steve began his descent into the darkness.

As Steve continued to wander, the sounds of rushing water started to get louder and louder. It didn’t take long for him to lose track of time, the path continued to twist further and further down, the temperature dropping as time continued on.

Steve was amazed at how vast this underground network of caves continued to be, sitting right underneath the manor all this time.

He’d known, hadn’t he, that Tony hadn’t been telling him everything, yet to be hiding something as immense as this--

As the sound of the water drew nearer, Steve could see that there was something up ahead. His eyes, now adjusted to flickering light of his torch, could see that the light was brighter along the cavern walls. Someone was down here.

He doused the torch, dipping it in a small puddle of water.

As he walked further in, Steve could see that the pathway itself curved down and around into a larger chamber, spiraling down and around into a much larger and open chamber. He crouched behind the ledge, and slowly peaked his head over top.

Multiple figures dressed in dark leathers and armor were working together to heave barrels into the underground river. On the other side, Steve could see more loading and sealing supplies and food into these wooden barrels. In the middle of all of it, was James ‘Warhog’ Rhodes.

For a moment Steve was certain it was someone else. Stark sheltering the rebels was one thing, but a Captain of the Royal Guard? Rhodes was easily one of the most trusted guardsmen in the force.

From his vantage point, it was hard to make out what the figures down below were saying. Slowly but surely, Steve started to creep closer.

Cold steel pressed against Steve’s throat. “Don’t move.”

Steve froze, heart aching, mind racing. Here was the truth he’d been searching for, he only needed to face it. He wished he were sure he could do that.

“Tony,” he rasped.

For one long moment, nothing changed. The sword’s edge still rested against his throat, ready to dispense with him at one wrong move. Then Tony eased away, allowing Steve the room to turn and stand, but the sharp glint of his blade at the ready left no doubt in Steve’s mind-- he was not being let go. 

“That was nice little distraction you cooked up. I’d hoped-” Tony began to say, but he shook his head. Dressed not in his typical finery, but in simple dark brown leathers and a black cloak, Tony stared at him with unreadable eyes. “No sudden movements, and keep your sword sheathed. Throw it onto the ground, off to the side. And because I know you’re thinking about it, don’t bother trying anything.”

Steve swallowed, his eyes flickered around them. A glance to his side told Steve that Rhodes had a crossbow trained on his back. Further up the path from where he came, he could see two more hooded figures with crossbows. No way out.

His movements slow, Steve tossed his sword to the ground. “I’m not here to fight.”

“Don’t bullshit me. What did the king order you to do when you found the rebels?” From the look on Tony’s face, the anger hidden beneath his cold expression, Steve knew that Tony already knew.

Steve shook his head in denial. “I’m not going to do it. I was never going to do it.”

“What was it?” Tony asked through gritted teeth.

“Round up the leaders to stand trial, kill everyone else, and raze their headquarters to the ground,” Steve said hollowly, and then quickly added, “I wouldn’t- I won’t. You can trust--”

“Damn right you won’t,” Rhodes snorted angrily. “Do you really think we’re going to give you the chance?”

Rhodes was right. They’d be fools to let him go. But Steve saw something in Tony’s eyes, a spark of doubt, or hesitation and clung to it.

“Tony, please!” Steve pleaded. “I want to help! I know what the Crown is doing is wrong and I want to stop it too.”

“Why should we believe you?” Rhodes asked, circling around so he could stand beside Tony.

Steve gazed into Tony’s eyes, willing the mouse to trust him. “Please.”

The cavern was silent as a moment passed, and then another. Steve could feel as Tony stared him down, his fur standing up in all directions. Tony’s gaze was intense, but to have his full-attention locked onto him, it was no wonder that even with his small stature, that Tony easily commanded the room with his presence. Tony tilted his head, his whiskers twitching as he considered the cat in front of him.

Steve felt the tension release from his body as Tony slowly lowered his sword. “Stand down.”

“Are you sure about this?” Rhodes asked, his crossbow dropping only slightly. 

“No,” he said. “But I want to believe him.”

Sagging with relief, Steve looked around at the assembled rebels. “Does this mean I get to meet the leader?”

On his other side, Tony and Rhodes shared a look. Steve hadn’t noticed it before, but looking at them now, it was obvious that these two had likely worked together for years. It was like they were communicating a full conversation that Steve didn’t understand, without saying a word. A long moment later, Tony stepped forward with a wry grin. “Oh, but you already have. Not officially I suppose, so-”

Tony dropped his arms with a flourish into a low bow. “Welcome Sir Steven Mouser to our band of merry rebels, the Iron Legion. This is where we’d normally hand you a uniform and sword, however I feel like your best disguise might be hiding in plain sight-

“Wait,  _ you’re the leader? _ ”

Tony winked. “I suppose if you want to call it that, then yes. I am...Iron Mouse.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
“No doubt your sword is indeed a beautiful thing. It is a tribute to whoever forged it in bygone ages. There are very few such swords as this one left in the world, but remember, it is only a sword, Matthias! It contains no secret spell, nor holds within its blade any magical power. This sword is made for only one purpose, to kill. It will only be as good or evil as the one who wields it. I know that you intend to use it only for the good of your Abbey, Matthias; do so, but never allow yourself to be tempted into using it in a careless or idle way. It would inevitably cost you your life, or that of your dear ones. Martin the Warrior used the sword only for right and good. This is why it has become a symbol of power to Redwall. Knowledge is gained through wisdom, my friend. Use the sword wisely.” ―  **Brian Jacques, ** **Redwall**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all! Please let us know what you think!


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